You Don't Know Me
by Cath1
Summary: You think you know who I am. You'll never know. (Josh/Donna/Amy - Amy POV)


You Don't Know Me.

Author: Cath

Feedback: Definitely appreciated: button_mush@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: As always, not mine.

Summary: You think you know who I am. You'll never know. 

Spoilers: Not sure what happens in each episode, so say up to Night Five to be safe. 

Notes: So I was thinking, with all this Amy bashing, who's there to tell her side of the story? So I had a go. Hope the characterisation isn't too bad. 

Amy POV. 

~*~ You Don't Know Me ~*~

There you stand, pretending that you're completely innocent. That you don't care about him. That you don't care about me. 

You're judging me as I talk to him and tell him things that you're trying to hear. Judging me as I judge you. Maybe you don't like me; maybe you hate every moment that I draw breath. You have that right. But not because you think I've stolen him away from you. Can you not see that as hard as I try, I cannot? There is nothing that I can do to take him away. The moments we share, the times we are together are like the trip to Tahiti. An unfulfilled promise that as much as I hope he'll be there for me, me alone, there's always something getting in the way. Work. Friends… You. 

I watch you out of the corner of my eye as you try not to watch me back. To watch us. To watch him. I'm an obstacle in your game. Something in the way, something to overcome. And as much as I hate to admit, it's a false idea. I'm no obstacle. I'm merely here to fill some void in his life before the right person comes along. Maybe you're the right person, maybe you're not. But I know that it's not me. 

The thing that keeps me here is the challenge. The need to prove to myself that I can achieve all that I want, that I am not some pawn in a political one-upmanship. That I am not owned by one person. But that someone can care for me enough that they feel the need to try and get to know me, to see me for who I am. It's not just the chase that I want, although that's a part of it. 

Don't you see that I just need someone to adore me as he adores you? 

I won't give him up for you, though. I won't stop fighting; it's not the person that I am. I don't give in easily. But I'm finding that I fight more and more each day, and he's giving up. 

And I don't know how much more fighting I can do. It's too much work, and there's too little reward. But I'm not going to be the one left standing foolish here. There's my need to prove myself, but then there's my pride. 

He looks over at you as you secretly watch and pretend to be busy. Your hair falls in front of your face as you quickly look down, and he loses his trail of thought. He looks back at me, tries to remember what he was saying. Tries and fails. 

And he glances back over at you, and my eyes follow his. You look up in an ill-timed moment, and you see us watching you. You see him watching you. In a moment from a romance cliché alone, your eyes meet across the not-so-crowded room and I am forgotten. I start to talk, to try to get his attention away from you. I gently take his arm and guide him back to me. But he doesn't see me like he sees you. His attention returns, but I know that I just lost another part of him to you. 

The more this happens, the more I try to counteract it, try to connect with him, but to little or no effect. And it makes me into someone that I don't like. Someone that no one else likes, and soon he'll see that too. Then you'll have him back, and maybe one day the same thing will happen to you. Your need to have someone realise who you are will take over the true meaning of the relationship for you. And you won't realise it until it's too late to do anything, and then it's over. But then maybe, perfect as you are, you already know how to connect to people without having to make that effort and will never have that problem. In which case I can only wish you good luck. 

He talks to me for a while longer, but it's only about politics. You can't hear what he's saying, and I know you're watching us, so I try to look engrossed. To make you believe that we're talking about something that you want to hear. Because you have to understand that at the moment I'm still around, and you have to accept that if you're not going to do anything about it. 

And I'm going to pretend that he really does like me, that he wants to be in a relationship with me for reasons other than politics, or self-realisation. I've got to pretend that he likes me more than you; that I don't see what's really going on; that I have no idea about the undercurrent between you. Because I've got to make the most of it while I'm still in his life. You might understand that. 

But I know you're judging me, thinking about what I'm doing to him, doing to you. You think you know who I am. You'll never know. And I don't think I'll be staying around long enough for you ever to find out. 

Like it? Hate it? Indifferent? I really would like to know your opinion: button_mush@hotmail.com 


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